


Duality

by Loveforthestory



Series: More Love for Revolution [12]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: A war of duality in a woman's heart, F/M, Monroe Men, New Vegas, a deeper look into what was happining in Charlie's heart and mind, charloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:37:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4889524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveforthestory/pseuds/Loveforthestory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes you forget. You want to forget. You have to forget all about a man that was once only the enemy. Back when that line in the sand had been clear. And he is creeping in. Bit  by bit, under your skin. Other places he should not go. And then you meet his son. Who turns out to be so much danger too. Cloaked under that warm smile of his. His darkness hidden in those dark curls of him. But so much of him, the man that is becoming more than that enemy to you now. Him out there, the man you just left behind in a tent in the tent city out there, together with a woman that made your blood boil the moment you lay eyes on her."</p><p>Or Like Bass said himself: "You know it is interesting, of all the guys ...you choose a Monroe." My thoughts exactly. But why?<br/>This piece is me trying to find that answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duality

**I love Charlie’s character. There is so much going around in her heart and mind and this story is about just that. This story is about Charlie’s complex feelings around one of her decisions we watched her make on the show. It is like Bass said himself  ‘Of all the  guys...you chose a Monroe.’ But why? For me, this scene on the show always screamed both Connor and Bass. Charlie knew she was going to be with a Monroe there and she could have made a choice for any other man out there. I tried to explore more from Charlie here. That is what this piece is about. It is about Connor and Charlie ( a little warning ahead). It is about Charlie and Bass intertwined in that story.**

* * *

Sometimes you forget

 Sometimes you forget. You want to forget. You have to forget all about a man that _was_ once only the enemy. Back when that line in the sand had been clear. And he is creeping in. Bit  by bit, under your skin. Other places he should not go. And then you meet his son. Who turns out to be so much danger too. Cloaked under that warm smile of his. His darkness hidden in those dark curls of him.

But so much of _him_ , the man that is becoming more than that enemy to you now. So much of the younger lighter man he maybe once was. _Him_ out there, the man you just left behind in a tent in the tent city out there, together with a woman that made your blood boil the moment you lay eyes on her.

Sometimes you forget. You have to. You have to forget about the one thing  your heart does not want to think about and around longer than it has to. And you do not allow you heart to feel what it is feeling. Sometimes you need to burn everything between someone else and you. To forget. To erase.

Sometimes you forget. You forget. Forget where you are. Who you are. With who you are. What a big part he is of the man you are trying to forget.

You watch him as he puts another log on the fire. You look at the man that is with you. He looks back at you and then follows the lines of your body with his eyes. His eyes touch your neck, caress your breasts, the lines of your belly and even lower. You feel his eyes on your legs. And then, he looks at your face again.

The contours of tents in the distance.  The feeling of feeling things you do not want to feel inside.

 _Boredom_ because the other man you walked into Vegas with, your leather jacket brushing against his, kicked you out of negotiations with the warlord you came here _with him_ to meet. Just like that. Something he never did to you. Because you really thought he took you seriously after everything that has happened.

Boredom you felt because you miss his burning stares. Boredom that seeps in because he is not around right now to hate.

 _Hate. Loathing_. Feeling them both for yourself  for not being able to look away when he does. When that blue steel of his meets straight with a part of yourself that is wild and so very personal.

Desired. Feeling wanted by the dark eyes in front of you. Ignoring the desire you have seen in _his'_ eye's too. By the man that _isn't_ here with you. Truth is, you have felt lonely for so long. Looked over, not heard. Lost in a sea of people battling their past when you are battling your own demons.

He is sweet. A little too full of himself, but sweet, now the danger hidden in him has not come out. Yet. And he is a part of home. Of Jasper. Belonging to your past in a way as well. He is easy.  And you watch him watching you. His shoulders, the skin of his neck, his lips. His tall arms, his boots. 

And you feel like he sees you, feel like you can have the upper hand. The upper hand is good, it means no mess and no shit later. Having the upper hand is always good.

And when he looks up at you and gets away from his spot near the fire, you know. You need to stop every single thought that is swirling in your mind about another man that got too close. You need to forget them all. And you just dive in. When you walk over to him and grab him by his jacket and he is close enough to smell, sweat and dark curls and ego,  you feel it pumping through your blood.

You feel in control.

You can take him.

You can see him worshipping you. Looking at you.  His hardness hard against your lower belly. He wants you. He sees you.

He did not expect this. But you devour him anyway.

Not giving him or yourself a way out. Bridges need to be burned. So you make yourself believe this is your way out. You tell yourself it does not matter what you are about to do, and that it only matters if you make it matter. That you are free and there is no one who can burn right through you. There are no other set of eyes on your mind. They do not matter.

It is a lie. But you forget. You choose to believe the lie. Your own lie.  You will find outs, soon, so soon, that this does not change anything you feel for another man. _Him_. Out there. And he will know too. He will see right through you on a sandy road one week for now.

But you are stubborn. So you let yourself forget everything else. You are here. He, dark curls, is here. 

You feel him kiss you back with an eager mouth. His hand trail over your shoulder. His other cups your ass. And he is being too gentle. You do not want or need or look for gentle right now.  So you tell him with eager hands you are not looking for gentle. You  smirk at his surprise, at the hint of disbelieve in his eyes when your hands move to his pants.  You close your eyes when you let him move his hand over your left breasts and he is kissing you with fire. As his movements get more rough and fast.  He groans. He is claiming you with his lips sucking on your pulse point in your neck.

You look at him, at Connor when another name whispers roughly through your mind. So you focus again on him. On the hunger in those eyes.  He moves under your top but you decide he is not moving fast enough. You do not want slow. You do not have time for slow. That is not what this is about. You pull it over your head yourself and start tugging on his shirt.  A wide chest appears, and you lick a drop of sweat from it. You watch his arms, his stomach. The line of hair moving to and into his pants that starts right under his belly button.

You are  in control.  You decide what is going to happen here to forget everything else. It pulsates between you and him.

He finally let’s go of his last disbelieve you are letting him near as he grunts deep and lifts you into his arms.  When you feel his curls right above his hard cock, you push him onto the ground. He smirks in surprise, busy eating you with just his eyes. You know his mouth will not go anywhere near where he wants to go.

He looks at you, cups your face. You let him kiss you for one second, and then push him away. You move closer to his’ cock, feeling the head press into your thighs. You look at him as he jerks up his hips and curses something.You move over him, feeling all of him. You start riding him with eager ups and down from your knees.  You close your eyes. Again. Pride in his eyes, more lust in his eyes. 

You forget. Forget the rest. Forget him. _Him._ You feel. Move. His boots next to you near the fire. Right before you come, right before you fall apart, you hear him groan your name. You block it out. It is too personal. You ride him harder. Not for him. You close your eyes. For yourself.  You think of a warlord out there,  a hint of her bitch eyes set you on fire even more. You think of the man that is with her.  And you forget even harder. You come, with him following not much later.

You are out of breath as he catches you with strong arms and you give yourself one second to get almost lost in warm hands and his fingers that move through your hair, comforting. He is sweet. But not for you.

But then your forgetting  betrays you. And you move away from his body and crash on the ground next to him. In seconds he will tell you he is surprised you did this. He will _remember_ you of who is dad his.

You will ask him and tell yourself at the same time he is nothing like him. To sooth yourself, your conscious. when you look into dark brown eyes with steel blue on your mind.

You start to not forget. You thoughts betraying yourself. You start to know and feel again.

Who you are. Who he is. Who he is not.

You want to forget. You really want to.  And then, _his_ voice, a voice of low thunder that belongs to messy wild curls and steel blue eyes barks thunders through the air not far from you and him near that fire.

He is here.

And forgetting is the last thing on your mind.

* * *

**Author's Note I wanted to explore the feelings twirling around in Charlie, in this complex piece. To explore her more in this scene from the show. Show the duality in what was going on in her heart and mind.  It is just like Bass said, "of all the guys...she choose a Monroe.Thanks for reading everyone!The prompt for this one is #36, Sometimes you forget, for the Armada. Love from Love**  


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